Before Sunset
by Fatally Damned
Summary: Julia and Hwoarang. General out of the head romance, a little dark, somewhat serious with some humor floating around. So, coincidences happen, but what comes of them?
1. Chapter 1

Stepping back into the lockeroom from the hallway, Hwoarang began to pace back and fourth facross the cherry wood floor. Muttering to himself repeadidly in Korean, he burned in his recent defeat, and disqualification from the tournement.

"Six fucking rounds. What the hell..." He slipped his hand through his newly cut, short, burnt orange hair, his black teeshirt raising slightly, becoming untucked from his baggy camoflauge pants. Round six in the Iron Fist tournement against Bryan Fury had gained for him nothing more than a pounding headache and an extremely sore shoulder. "Goddamned cyber-fucked bastard." He grumbled before taking a step back and slamming his fist through the wall, leaving a clear view straight to the other side. Pulling his hand back softly, he gritted his teeth and a gutteral moan came from him. He hadnt meant to punch so hard.

Julia opened her eyes, startled as she sat on the floor of the womens lockerroom, nursing mental wounds of an early defeat. From where she sat, directly in front of her on the opposite wall, there was now a fist sized hole. She stood, and bent down only a bit, leaning against the wall behind her. Hwoarang bent down as well, only to see a brown haired woman, wearing glasses, starring back at him. Sh wore a black track jacket, faded tight blue jeans, and teal colored flip-flops.

he raised an eyebrow. He was a familliar face from tournements before, but she'd never fought him. From the way he looked, from his body to his apparent temper, she never wanted to. Without a word, he stepped back, grabbed his duffle bag from the bench, and pushed open the door only to bump into a taller, older man. The man had tall blonde, but greying hair, and a five o' clock shadow that had been working since two thirty of last year.

"Watch it kid." The man spoke, in a deep rusted voice, glarring right into Hwoarang's eyes. Hwoarang squeezed his bleeding fist tightly, before making the decision to abort his next bright idea, and walked around him. Quickly turning to his right, he felt a figure colide into his chest after a few feet of travel. Julia dropped her duffle bag and her book, loosing her ballance as well. With a stern face, he glanced down at the brown haired woman for a moment, then, feeling guilty, extended his hand. Unwillingly, she took the offer, and righted herself again. He apologized in Korean, but her brows furrled as she listened to him speak.

"Sorry." He spoke, clearing his throat before hand, perfect english rolling from his tongue. She pushed her reading glasses to the top of her head, little strands of hair falling before her eyes, and then picked up her book.

"It's alright." Struggling with its weight, she heaved the bag upwards, and over her shoulder. Casually, with his own bag in hand, he took hers and lifted both over his right shoulder, avoiding the injured left side.

"Where are you going?" He spoke in Korean again before she had a chance to protest his help. "Fuck." He spoke clearly again, and repeated himself in a langauge she could understand.. "Where are you headed to?"

"Mishima Towers hotel down the road. I'll be fine, its a short walk."

"If you consider a thirty minute walk with a forty pound bag short, then be my guest sweetheart." He smirked and flashed a cocky smile. "Besides, I dont think you'd make it before sunset." She scoffed, streached to her tip toes, and snatched the bag from him. In the dark hallway, she failed to realize the colors of the two bags. Throwing the army green bag over her shoulder insted of the navy blue, she took off in the opposite direction down the hall. Hwoarang smiled, shook his head, and kept about his way.

Outside, the sky sat ablaze with pink and yellow, with traces of day blue seeping between the mix of color. He inhaled softly, looking down across the busy street, taxi's and expensive cars streaming by in what seemed to be a never ending trail of gasoline fumes and tire marks. An old woman walked past him, starring at his appearance. A military degenerate, and although he no longer had to serve an organization which he hated, he carried it with him, whether he meant to or not. He tucked his dog tags into his shirt and walked towards the curb, his black combat boots sliding across the clean white concrete.

Throwing his bag into the trunk of the red taxi with an image of a sunset on the side of it, he looked back at the arena, shook his head, and got into the vehicle.


	2. Chapter 2

Hwoarang stepped out of the glass walled shower and onto the bathroom floor, while wrapping a towel around his waist. The white cloth hung low, just beyond the defined lines and indentations of where his hips and abdomen met to form a v-shape.

Moving closer to the large mirror above the sink, Hwoarang wiped a blurry and fogged image of himself away to reveal a better one. Locks of now short, but growing hair fell into his eyes, and he pushed them away, revealing a set of tired brown eyes. Twenty two years, and those eyes had never hidden more pain and loneliness until now. He smirked casually and thanked God he had the self trained ability to go numb of emotion.From street fights to military battles, it was worth something.

He clasped the dog tags around his neck for a moment, hanging onto them as he walked out into the bedroom, where little white candles rested in the red oak end tables next to both the bed and the door. Hwoarang scoffed and quickly punched out the thin flame closest to him. No need for the romantic bullshit, he thought to himself.

The duffle bag sat atop the snow white blanket and as he came closer to it, he noted its color. His face scrunched as he began to quickly unzip it, the towel around his waist slipping just a bit further downward. Reaching into the bag which he knew very well to be not his own, the first item he recovered was a pair of lace blue panties. He grinned and held them up to the light, tiny flowers etched into the design. For a moment, he felt guilty for going through the things that didnt belong to him.

"Eh, what the hell." He whispered to himself, as he removed a matching bra, examining it closely, as though he had never seen one before.

Julia had long before gotten to the hotel, and discovered that her bag was in fact not hers at all. The fighters for the tournement had been given one floor to occupy in the MTH, and no matter how great of an idea it was, there was no loosing any one of them with all the servailence.

Julia had already been down to the front desk in search of the "orange haired guy" as she had called him when she spoke to the clerk. Room six-seventeen was where her things had found themselves, hopefully all still acounted for.

Her footsteps where gentle across the plush flooring, and over ridding theme of red no different from the halls to the bedrooms themselves. She glanced at the gold numbers that where placed on the door and sighed. A million other things could have been found for her to do in her mind, other than having to cross the cocky young man again. She balled her fist and gently tapped on the door, barely loud enough to be heard. Shifting her weight from her left to her right foot, the strap of her blue tank top slid off her shoulder, but her hair covered it from sight, now hanging loose in light reflecting strands of brown and black. She bit her bottom lip for a moment, wanting to turn and speed walk back down the hallway to her room. Just a bag of clothes...no big deal. The only clothes she had...somewhat of a big deal. She narrowed her eyes as footsteps came closer and closer to the door by the way they sounded. Hwoarang opened the door slowly, dripping wet, and looked down at her, though he was only a few inches taller than she.

"Looking for these?" He lifted before her, her bra and panties, and she blushed a bright but deep shade of red, snatching them from his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

"I _think_ you'll need these more than I will." He smiled and pushed his wet hair back with the hand that once held Julia's unmentionables. As her face slowly returned to his nautral color, she looked down the hallway, refusing to look back at him, but Hwoarang never took his eyes from her. When she was finally not embarassed anymore, she looked back up at him.

"So where's the rest of it?" Hwoarang moved to the side, allowing her to see into his room, and onto the bed where the bag lay, from view, undisturbed.. She cleared her throat and walked past him into the room, to the bed.

"You know, if you hadnt have been in such a rush, this would'nt have happened." As Julia zipped her bag, she turned her head back.

"So I take it that youre the always right type?" She rolled her eyes as she spoke, but he had no facial reaction.

"Only when it's proven." He spoke, as tightened the twoel that was around his waist. Julia hoisted the bag onto her shoulder again, and showed a bit of strain under the weight. "What in the hell do you have in this thing anyway?" Again, he took the bag from her. Immediately, she reached, and attempted to take it back.

"Nothing of your concern. Now please give me my bag. What makes you think i'll let you carry it now if I didnt earlier?"

"Because you dont look like the stupid kind. If something is beyond the reaches of what you can handle, you dont seem like the type to-"

"The type to try?" She snapped at him and quickly kicked him in the shin so that he dropped her bag to the floor. Hwoarang gritted his teeth as pain rang through his leg for a moment..

"Thats not what I meant."

"Such rash assumptions for someone who doesnt even know my name."

"Then tell me." He leaned forward, closer to her face. For a moment, she glanced into his eyes, and no words came to her.

"Julia." She spoke calmly as Hwoarang slipped his hand underneath the shoulder strap of the bag, across her skin. Goosebumps formed along her arm, but she quickly disregarded the reaction. She knew what he was doing, but this time, she did not protest.

"My name is Hwoarang." She nodded, feeling somewhat guilty for having been rude, although he should have felt the same in her opinion. "What room are you staying in?"

"Well since you arent giving me my bag, I'll just show you." She smiled a bit. "But um...you might wanna get dressed." He shrugged. "Alright then. Your choice." She raised, and then let her shoulders fall, attempting to keep her eyes ahead, at the level of his shoulders as he walked in front of her.

As he walked ahead of her, at a pace faster than she was used to, she ran her deep red fingernails across her scalp. After she pushed back her hair, she ran to meet him.

"So whats your story anyway?" He glanced down at his left side to see her there, walking fast in order to keep up with Hwoarang. He slowed his pace.

"Story of what?"

"Why are you here?"

"For fun." He smirked as Julia played with the ends of her hair with her right hand.

"Hard to believe. Everyones got a reason.."

"Maybe I dont." He smiled at her as they both came to a stop. She had reached for the handle of the door before them, at the very end of the hallway where she roomed. Realizing she might have walked over a broken bridge, she nodded.

"Well...thank you for carrying my bag." Julia reached forward and he handed the blue duffle bag to her.

"And she actually says thank you." He whispered in a cocky manner, looking back as though he were talking to someone, yet no one was there at all.

"Hey, who said I was impolite?" Hwoarang shrugged and reached down, keeping his towel from falling.

"I'll see you later...Julia." He winked, and she nodded, biting her bottom lip. Watching as he walked back down the hallway, her eyes scanned his body, and she blushed again, turning quickly to her partially open door.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews. Life seems to be much more complicated than it should be, and Ive been trying to get something up for the last couple of weeks. This'll be short, but don't worry…it gets better yet…when I get the time. Love to all.

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Julia stood in her doorway for a moment, her thoughts coming in camera flashes that were bright and vivid to her, even as mentally worn as she was. She remembered that she had seen, quite a few _daring_ inches bellow his navel, a few simple black symbols. They seemed to be in his native language, but she had no idea what the meanings were.

The weight of the bag was painful on her already sore back. Julia heaved it across the floor so that it was no longer in her path and locked the door behind herself.

"Maybe I should quit dragging around so many books." She whispered to herself, sighing. Her endless studying was getting her no where. She had hit a wall sometime the year before, and had yet to find anything promising. But yet, she still kept trying.

In fact, she was no longer the happy-go-lucky "Julie C" that all her professors at the U of A had known her as. Her mind set was slowly deteriorating, becoming more and more dark. But that didn't matter. She sat down stiffly onto the bed and for a moment, closed her deep, brown eyes.

He cleared his throat as he entered his room, his eyes systematically scanning everything that could be seen in a matter of moments. Every now and then his paranoia took hold, wrecking his nerves. They claimed to be done with him, but who know. Loyalty had had its limits with him, so why wouldn't honesty have the same with the Korean military?

Hwoarang dropped the damp towel from around his waist and let it fall to his feet beside the bed. The dull pounding of another headache pulsed behind his eyes.

Taking a pair of thin, black and baggy linen pants from his duffle bag, he slipped them over his nude lower half. Tonight would be another sleepless and pointless night. As he lowered himself into the leather chair beside the window, he clenched his injured fist in frustration. There was no doubt in his mind that his sleep deprivation was what had caused his early tournament defeat, but the headaches always came. There was no stopping them.

Hwoarang was in need of a stiff drink. Any concoction wound do. If he had to be awake all night, why be coherent. Leaning forward to reach the ornate refrigerated cabinet, he found a bit of everything. Chinese vodka, his drink of choice, sat in a red tinted bottle to the left of the cabinet. He smiled to himself bitterly, taking the bottle between his fingers and his palm.

Opening the bottle, he took a long sip, feeling the cool and then scratchy burning sensation follow closely behind. Alcohol seemed to be the only substance that could ease the constant annoyance of a head ache that ancient herbs or modern doctors could explain, or heal. Slouching back and down into the chair, he rested his palm against his face.


	5. Chapter 5

A "courtesy" alarm sounded loudly within Hwoarang's room, jarring him from a half conscious state. His brown eyes searched until he found a tiny speaker in the left corner, above his bed.

"Good morning." A woman with a deceivingly American accent spoke clearly, cheerful, annoying. "Please report to the Wei Pai room immediately. Thank you." He glared at the speaker for a moment, as if it would help the situation and resolve his issue with her waking him up. He rolled his eyes.

"A six-o-clock in the morning call had better warrant something spectacular." He mumbled to himself, having only been asleep for close to three hours. Still mildly intoxicated, he stood and slid a worn black band tee shirt over his mussed head of hair, and then across his defined shoulders. A pair of palm woven flip flops would do just fine he'd decided, as he tucked his metal tags into the neck of his shirt and opened the door.

The chatter of fighters hit his ears instantly as he moved out into the brightly lit hallway. Quickly, Hwoarang shut the noise out and walked towards the elevator. His finger slid across the "down" button, and the high pitched ding of the elevators bell jerked his attention. The elevator happened to be right in front of _her_ room.

he leaned against the railing and watched as the doors began to close. Just as Julia opened her room door, she glanced at those of the elevator which were sliding shut, and made eye contact with him within the inches of space left before the gap was closed completely. Hwoarang stared for a second, his eyes a bit glazed from both lack of sleep, and sleep itself, then sighed.

-o-

The general noise that any crowd of people would create was enough to make him consider turning around, and heading right back to his room. He paused at the door way, looking in and across before taking any action. Some habits died hard, some didn't die at all. Once a property of the military, always a property of the military.

"Ladies and gentleman, this shouldn't last long. I ask your attention please." A middle aged, half Chinese, half Caucasian woman spoke as Hwoarang stepped in and took a place at the very back of the room, next to the doorway. Another quick eye venture around the room told him very quickly, that quite a few competitors were missing. The most notable, of course, was Jin Kazama…but that was another thought for another time.

Julia, her hair in a long braid following her spine, moved quickly past Hwoarang, failing to notice him at all. She took a spot past a few others, directly in front of him, standing. She as well had been quick to leave her room dressed in sleeping clothes from the previous night. She wore a white ribbed tank top, tight to her breasts without a bra, and a pair of short black bicycling shorts with plastic flip flops of the same color.

"Due to Mr. Mishima's recent…unhappiness with the results of the current tournament, he has made the decision to end the current activities, and begin a second round of matches. Re-entrance is allowed if any of your interests lay ahead of you. Mr. Mishima wishes you the best of luck." As soon as the woman had ended her speech, Hwoarang turned for the door. "And," He stopped, rolling his eyes. "breakfast will be served in the room across the hall. Please help yourselves."

Hwoarang figured he could be in and out before any others made their annoying little ways into the dining area. He wasn't social by nature, but a smart ass? Well that was something obvious enough to anyone who crossed his path.

Grabbing a few sugar rolls, he turned to leave, when suddenly someone ran into him. He glanced down, to see Julia, just as surprised as he.

"Sorry." He blurted, his mouth full. She frowned, and then smiled a bit.

"Good morning. Seems we always meet with your apologies." He shrugged, still a little tipsy from the vodka that hadn't had time to leave his system.

"Shit happens." There was a quiet pause, and Hwoarang took another ungraceful bite of one of the rolls he held.

"I was wondering if you'd like to spar since we're already awake and-" She began nervously. It was just an attempt at a social opportunity. He interrupted before she had time to finish speaking.

"I don't 'spar.' What the hell would I need to spar for?" He spoke in a cocky manner, raising an eyebrow, furrowing the other.

"Well I just thought-" Hwoarang interrupted again.

"What time?"

"Um…" She stuttered. Give Julia a thousand books to read, and she was wonderful. Give her three sentences to speak to the opposite and intimidating sex, and she was a mess. "How about now? Do you have the time?"

"Yeah sure." His answer was short and seemed rude.

"Ok…well I have to run back to my room, but I'll meet you in the gym in about fifteen minutes?" His eyes fell over her body making a brief stop at her chest where certain parts of her anatomy were visible through the thin white material of her shirt. He looked away, feeling disrespectful. "Is that alright?"

"Yeah." She smiled softly and left.


	6. Chapter 6

Julia pushed the glass door open and peered around the doorframe, as Hwoarang stretched out facing the wall. She watched for a moment admiring his toned shoulders, his perfect posture. She cleared her throat, as she pushed one pig tail behind her shoulder. Abruptly he stopped, and looked back over his shoulder, pieces of burnt orange hair falling into his eyes. He was so stiff…so chiseled…so the military cut out that had fallen onto the ground…rolled in attitude and personality. It was quite the attractive contradiction, if anything.

"You ready?" Pushing the hair back from his face, he looked at her seriously.

"I-Uh, yeah I guess." She was a bit taken back by his eagerness to fight her. Julia was sure what

exactly she had expected, but it _was_ her idea. Hwoarang watched her, his head cocked to one side.

"Don't look so nervous. I'll take it easy on you." He smirked, and she stood straight again.

"Where _do_ you get your charm?" He motioned for her to come forward, and she ran towards him, only to be side stepped and pushed forcefully to the ground. Hwoarang laughed and extended his hand to Julia as she breathed heavily, surprised by his strength. Being the independent and stubborn woman that she was, she waved his hand away and stood on her own.

"Try again?" Without warning, Julia landed a kick right beneath his chin, and without hesitation, she found her back against the wall with his forearm against her throat.

"Take it easy?" She coughed, and he realized he was applying more force than he had meant to. He didn't even recall how they ended up in the situation. It was just by training and brainwashing. Something else had momentarily taken over. He moved his arm, and she fell to the ground, breathing hard.

"I told you, I don't spar." Again, he held out his hand, but she ignored it, spiting him a bit. His facial expression changed, and he was somewhat offended. "Besides, I'm not the one who needs to." Julia rolled her eyes and righted herself, leaving him in the room alone.

-o-

Hwoarang glared at the new match line up sheet based on those fighters who had signed up again. Mostly everyone wanted a second chance, but Jin Kazama's name was absent. All the entered fighters were required to be back at the arena in about an hour. A figure stepped beside him, and he paid no mind, but the scent of roses caused him to look down. Julia stood with her hair tied back, glasses set perfectly on her nose.

"Do you want to hail a cab together. It's cheaper that way." She looked up at him, then back towards the match line up which was taped to the wall. How odd it would seem to everyone that two scheduled to fight in first round combat, would ride together in the same taxi. He seemed unphased by it, but then again, he didn't seem like the type to show a varied range of emotions. After what he had shown in the gym, just sparing with her, she could deny that she was a bit worried about facing him. But she spoke nothing.

-o-

"Hey." Julia spoke to him in the hallway just before their match began. She'd spent longer than usual streaching, and even longer, thinking about the little that she saw of his style of fighting. It was a mix of Tae Kwan Do and military tactics, and those, were the ones she'd have the most trouble with. But, what better time to learn than now? "Don't take it easy on me." She eyed him from top to bottom. He'd worn his camo pants and a green shirt…heavy steel toed boots. Those wouldn't feel good at all. She wore jeans and a tank top. They both looked like street fighters, and that wasn't what the competition was.No one was taking notes on attire. Everyone just wanted to come out on top. He winked at her after she spoke.

"You don't have to worry about that."

The fight began and Julia took him off of his feet, tripping him to the ground before he had the chance to grab her. There was no doubting that he was stronger than her, and if she ended up in his grip, there was no getting out. He laughed, and jumped back up effortlessly. Hwoarang cracked his neck to the side and then ran forward. The fight was on, and it was on strong.

At the end of the match, Hwoarang won, and jumped out of the ring, leaving Julia unconscious in the middle. When he noticed that she hadn't gotten up…hadn't followed, he turned back. She lay crumpled, doubled over in her black tank top and faded jeans. She looked like a doll someone had tossed aside. He frowned, climbing back inside, and tossed the lifeless girl over his right shoulder effortlessly, in front of the crowd of watching fighters.


	7. Chapter 7

Hwoarang took both their bags with one hand, holding her to his shoulder with the other, and walked outside the arena, to the busy street. Laying her carefully in the taxi, he placed her head in his lap and told the driver where to go. He didn't remember what he'd done to knock her out…it was like something had erased the entire fight. He sighed. There was a dull head ache playing at the back of his skull.

He pushed open the door to his room and slipped the bags down to the ground, laying her across the bed, Julia's head on pillows. What he didn't remember, was with one kick, she had been knocked out. For a moment, he stared down at her, not knowing what to do. He hadn't been a medic in the military. Far from it. His hands were made for killing…his body set for defense and offence. Hwoarang ran his hand through his spiky hair and sighed, as he began removing her sneakers from her feet. The funny thing was that he really _had_ taken it easy on her. He hadn't gone full out. There was no reason to. He knew he'd beat her before they'd even started the fight.

He noted that she wasn't wearing her glasses. She must have had vision that wasn't horrible…or he would have felt even worse. Fighting someone who couldn't see was cheating. Unless it was street fighting or his doing of course. Her braids had begun to come undone, so he unraveled her long hair the rest of the way, running his fingers through to the ends. It had been so long since he had been so close to a woman. He'd even forgotten the intimate intricacies to the female form. He moved closer, studying her lips innocently. Hwoarang sighed and tapped her forehead with his index finger.

"Hey…" He continued tapping. "Hey Julia, wake up." Her eyes fluttered, and she grumbled incoherently. "You alright?" He asked.

"What happened?" She opened her eyes slowly and looked around.

"You lost." She glared at him. "I accidentally knocked you unconscious." She blushed at her short coming in their match.

"You brought me back to the hotel?"

"Didn't want to just leave you there." Julia nodded and attempted to sit up, but failed, feeling light headed. "You probably have a concussion." He stated as she put her hand to her warm forehead.

"I just wanna go to bed." He said nothing as she stood.

"I'll bring your bag." He watched as she struggled to her feet and to the door. He thought to offer her help with walking, but he swallowed the thought. Hwoarang threw her bag across his chest, and came behind her. Never mind what she wanted or didn't want. He'd also been trained to take care of his men during battle. He lifted her, and immediately, she wanted to protest, but Julia honestly didn't have the strength. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes as he walked down the hallway. Hwoarang looked down at the beautiful girl in his arms, and sighed, coming to her door. He stopped, placed her onto her feet after making sure she was awake, and placed her bag beside the doorframe.

"Goodnight Julia."

"Thank you." He nodded and turned to go back to his room. Momentarily, he shut his eyes. Wasn't there something about not sleeping with a concussion? He shook his head, frustrated with his lack of medical knowledge.

Turning the handle of his door, guilt kicked him. He felt as though he should have apologized a hundred times and offered to stay awake while she slept, just in case, watching over her.

"Since when do I feel bad about knocking someone out?" He whispered to himself. No matter. There were two matches he had to worry about in order to save his ass for the tounement. He couldn't afford to lose…or be distracted.


	8. Chapter 8

She awoke to light pounding on her door. The courtesy desk had shut off her alarm because of her loss. There was no reason to get her up at the same time as all the other contenders. Blinking a few times, still dressed as she had been the night before, she stretched and got out of bed.

Julia's feet dragged across the carpet until she reached her door. Opening it slowly, her eyes scanned upwards until they met Hwoarang's.

"You're alive." She furrowed her brows at his comment. "I've been knocking for five minutes. I thought you were dead." There was flatness behind his voice which hinted that he may have been serious about his assumptions, but the military calm glazed it over to nothing more than something to say.

"Sorry." She apologized, seeming a bit distant as she put her hand to her forehead. He glanced over her shoulders and arms noting her bruises that he had left.

"You ok?"

"I think so." When Julia opened her eyes, he noticed how glassy and reflective they were. Taking her chin into his hand, he looked into her brown eyes, tilting her head back for better lighting.

"You're coming with me." He spoke sternly, leaving no room for protest.

"I'm fine." He looked down at her left hand which held the door knob so tightly that her knuckles had turned white, as she leaned against the door for support.

"You can't stand up on your own."  
"I'll be fine. I just need to sleep."

"Your eyes are glassed over."

"I can take care of myself." She moved his hand from her chin. Her tine was harsh.

"Fine." He spoke in monotone. Turning to leave, Hwoarang sighed.

"Wait-" He turned and faced Julia, giving her a questioning look. He almost seemed annoyed, but it was just a misreading of his numb facial expression. "Never mind."

"Are you coming?"

"You'll be late." Hwoarang smirked.

"I'm already late."

"I have to get dressed." She began making excuses.

"I have time." Julia sighed, feeling an endless argument coming on if she didn't just give in. She stepped back and out of the door way so that he could come in while she readied herself. Hwoarang sat in the leather arm chair beside the bed, watching as she riffled though her duffle bag, leaning against the bed for support. When she went into the bathroom, he closed his eyes and exhaled.

-o-

"Just stay here." She attempted not to show her disapproval of his commands as he looked her directly in her eyes. Julia pulled her legs onto the couch in the small, private dressing room they'd found unlocked in the large arena. "You need to rest." She scanned his face upwards until she reached his hair and smirked at the co.lor. His face showed no emotional retort, figuring she was only laughing at his request. "I'll be back." Julia rested her elbow on the arm rest, her face against her palm.

Hwoarang side stepped a punch and landed one of his own in the ribcage of Lee who stumbled back only momentarily before dealing a sharp blow to the side of Hwoarang's head. Hwoarang squeezed his eyes shut. The match was bordering on twenty minutes from the will of Hwoarang himself. He refused to give up. The match was all or nothing in terms of tournament advancement. At the rate of things, Hwoarang couldn't afford another hit.

His head spun briefly, giving Lee a chance to knock him down with a menacing kick to the midsection. Hwoarang was sent over backwards, slamming his head violently into the mat. The match was over before Hwoarang reopened his eyes.

As Hwoarang made his way back to the dressing room, he moved his hand across his forehead. His ears rang a bit, and his eye sight moved in and out of focus as a head ache pulsed within his skull. Julia awaited his return, sitting with her knees against her chest. Hwoarang walked though the doorway and grabbed the wooded frame, pausing.

"Hwoarang?" She squinted as he tipped forward, but he heard nothing of what she said. When he moved further towards falling over, she rushed towards him. As soon as Julia reached him, he fell unconscious for the second time of the evening.

-o-

He opened his eyes to a loud beeping located right of his head, and complete darkness. Hwoarang sat up, looking to his right. Julia slept with her head tipped back against the wooden and leather chair. Her long brown and black hair hung back and behind her shoulders, with one foot propped against the metal railing on the bed.

He slowly began pulling off the cords connected to him.

"Julia." He spoke softly. With the heart monitor detached from his skin, the machine began to sound crazily. She snapped out of sleep and looked directly into his eyes.

"Are you alright?" He smirked pulling the last sticker from his muscled chest. "Why are you taking those off?" She seemed somewhat panicked.

"This happens all the time. They cant do anything for me. Its useless for me to be here." Still attempting to shake off her slumber, she shook her head in confusion as he got out of the bed and began redressing.

"They're not gonna let you just walk out of here."

"I'd like to see them try and stop me." Once fully clothed, Hwoarang took her by the hand, pulling her from the chair and towards the doorway.

"But-" She was stopped by a finger to her lips as she tried to speak. She sighed and followed him through the empty halls avoiding the looks from tire nurses until they reached the exit. The MTH was only a few blocks down.


	9. Chapter 9

Julia folded her arms against her chest to protect herself from the cool wind, slipping her hand away from his. He hadn't let go as they'd walked down the halls, and she was the only one who made the effort to part. But in truth, he hadn't noticed that he still held hers in his hand.

"You scared the hell out of me you know." Nervously, she glanced back at the hospital. A genuine smile played on his lips.

"Maybe you're cute when you're scared." Moving her long hair from blocking her face, she glared at him. "And when you're angry."

"Are you always a jerk?" She huffed and began to walk faster, ahead of him. Placing both his hands on her hips, he stopped her and turned her towards him.

"I was only joking. Take my jokes as compliments." Hwoarang poked the center of her forehead and continued walking. "So, you a drinker?"

"I-uh-"

"You mean 'no'."

"I didn't say that. I drink just as much as anyone else my age." Julia bit back with a spark of enthusiasm.

"Oh yeah?" Hwoarang spoke, crossing the street to the hotel, Julia following closely behind.

"Yes, actually."

"Well," He opened the door for her. "what do you drink?"

"Whatever." She answered hesitantly, knowing wine coolers weren't on the top of his alcohol list. He smiled and nodded towards the bar.

"I'll buy you my favorite."

"You probably shouldn't be drinking after-"

"You worry too much Julia." She smiled at the speaking of her name.

Sitting down on the stool, he ordered two drinks in rusty Japanese.

"Are you feeling better at least?" He nodded as the tender slipped the drinks in front of him. He moved one towards her. "What did you mean when you said 'it happens all the time?'"

"It just does. It happens all the time." She glanced at the tags around his neck as he referred to his fainting and being hospitalized for a debilitating head ache.

"So why are you here?" Julia asked, delicately sipping the strong concoction, trying not to frown in distaste.

"For fun."

"Fun?"

"Mhmm. Ive got nothing to occupy my time now. So this is my fun. Money doesn't hurt either."

"Are you in the military?"

"Was." He corrected sternly, finishing his glass. She glanced down at her own, holding her breath. She took a large sip.

"You?"

"Me?" She coughed a bit.

"Why are you here? Pretty girls usually find better things to do."

"Trying to find my path in life."

"This would be the wrong place to do it. You make it sound so spiritual." She shrugged, and took the rest of the alcoholic drink like a shot.

"It used to be." She smiled in attempts to hide the pain the situation caused.

Hwoarang ordered two shots and pushed one towards her. She laughed.

"Do I look like a party girl to you?" He smiled after downing his shot, still completely unaffected by the alcohol.

"Hey, I could take that one off of your hands." He referred to her shot. Julia stuck out her tongue sideways at him, took the shot, and shut her eyes tightly.

"What _was_ that?"

"Russian vodka."

"Ew."

"You'll be alright." Hwoarang laughed and she shook her head, hair falling into her face.

"Im done." Lightheaded, she laughed. He stared at her for a moment. Catching his glance, she looked away, then back again.

"What?" Hwoarang said nothing, but moved her hair from her face, tucking it behind her left ear.

"Your hair." He spoke in Korean.

"Hwoarang, I don't speak Korean." She giggled, and he blushed a bit, not realizing the slip.

"Your hair." He spoke in english. "It was hiding your face."

"Oh." Hwoarang stared into her eyes with a sort of blank look across his face. He was unreadable, even when he was trying to be. "Is there something wrong?" He shook his head.

"Thank you." There was a questioning look on her face once he spoke.

"For what?"

"For staying with me at the hospital." Hwoarang remembered how much he had hated waking up alone in the awful military make shift hospitals after being hurt, or when the head aches over came him.

"It was nothing. Im just glad that you feel better." He could hear the alcohol in her speaking. She ran her hand across his forearm sweetly. "I should be going." Hwoarang just about froze at her touch.

"I'll walk you to your room."

Before she put the key into the lock, she turned to face him.

"Thank you." She spoke softly. Standing only slightly on the tips of her toes, she kissed his cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Julia." He controlled the color of his face until she shut the door behind herself, then he turned bright red.

-o-


	10. Chapter 10

She woke with his hand sliding across her head, softly, his other arm around her waist. Morning light seeped through the closed blinds, leaving streaks of light across the bed, and across their bodies. Sitting up from her position, head on his chest, Julia sighed.

"Did you wake up before I did?"

"I never fell asleep."

"Why not?"

"I wanted to make sure you'd be alright." Hwoarang thought for a moment of how she effected him. She tuned him down to no more than a gentleman, chasing the street thug out of him as though it had never been there at all. She ran her thumb across his bottom lip and then pressed her mouth against his in a spur of the moment action. When Julia's tongue touched his, she felt his body tense, and it drove her on.

Her kiss swept him into a blank state of mind, where he could only feel her and the rhythm of his own heart.

Hwoarang placed his hand on the back of her head, intensifying the kiss, feeling her exhalations against his skin with how close they were. Julia's hand slid across his shoulder, and they were interrupted by a courtesy alarm that shattered the concentration they shared. The two stopped kissing, and stared into each others eyes as the American voiced woman spoke over the speaker.

"Please report to the Wei Pai room immediately for an announcement and meeting regarding the current tournament. Thank you." Against what she wanted, Julia climbed off of his lap, and he stood. Neither could tell if the moment was awkward for the other as they left the room in silence for the elevators.

Julia stood against the right side of the elevator with her arms crossed against her chest, starring at him thoughtfully.

"Than you for taking care of me." He nodded, without words, attempting to bring himself back to his normal emotionally deprived state.

All his efforts found themselves to be a waste when she approached him and put her forehead against his chin. Hesitantly, Hwoarang slipped his arm around her waist, just as the elevator doors slid open. The quick embrace was broken as she walked out ahead of him, refolding her arms.

He followed behind and took a seat next to her at the back of the room, amongst the metal folding chairs and tired, worn out fighters. Hwoarang leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees, hands folded before his mouth. She watched him. She studied him. His shirt slid up from his back, exposing skin and the waistband of his jeans. Thoughtfully, she returned his previous action and ran her hand across his back a few times before returning it to her lap.

Hwoarang smiled, leaning back against the cold metal. Their shoulders touched as they both stared ahead, neither too aware of the other people around them, of the conversations taking place, of what they were supposed to be paying attention to. He could feel every breath that she took, making him want to wrap his arms around her to feel each inhalation more closely. He could smell her skin…the smell of spices and roses. He fought with the more impure thoughts, willing them away, keeping it sweet. A sigh of impatience escaped him as the woman ahead began to drone on again.

-o-

Hwoarang knocked softly at her door, not sure if she was even around. They hadn't made plans to meet up...they hadn't really talked at all since the night before. Just a lot of stares, smiles, heart flutters. Evening had found them since the last they'd seen of each other.

So wrapped up in the book she was reading, she didn't bother to look up out of the peep hole of the door before opening it.

"Hi." His voice broke her from her trance and she smiled.

"Hi." Julia stepped aside so that he could come though the doorway and into her room. She'd been burning incense and the smell of sweet musk played in the air. It even looked a little smoky. He laughed, his hands in his pockets. Even through the incense, he could smell her skin, her sweet perfume.

"Am I interrupting your studying?" Julia shook her head as he read the cover of her book.

"Biological…stuff."

"Teach me." Hwoarang joked, smiling. There was no way he'd have the patience to learn anything like that. Patience was something that was generally thin with him.

"Only if you teach me Korean first." She sat down against the head board on the bed, stretching out her long legs. She wore a blue short jean skirt an a white, body hugging tank top, the straps of her bra tangled with the shirt straps. Hwoarang sat down onto the edge of the bed.

"I think that'd be easier." He glanced at her and smiled. He looked tired, but he looked content which was rare. It was rare to be able to tell anything but anger or annoyance, or smart assed ways on his face.

"Well…what's the first thing to learn?" Julia moved to sit closer to him, leaning forward.

"I guess…it'd be your name." She waited intently until he pronounced 'Julia' in his native tongue.

"It sounds so interesting. Much more interesting than the English equivalent. She moved closer, playfully, with a smile. "Teach me more." He paused for a second, then reached forward and ran his hand through her hair.

"Beautiful." The unfamiliar language intrigued her.

"What does it mean?" She stopped his hand once he reached her cheek and held it there against her skin.

"Nothin'." Laughing, she playfully hit his hand.

"Come on. What does it mean?" Again, he laughed.

"Nothing." Julia gently punched his upper arm, and he cried out, over acting.

"Oh shut up." Julia laughed even harder.

"Ok, ok, don't beat me up…" Hwoarang smiled, running his hand up the back of her calf, starring at her red toe nails. "It means 'beautiful'." He spoke seriously, looking into her eyes to reaffirm his belief.


	11. Chapter 11

"Does it?" Again, Julia moved towards him and kissed him sweetly.

"Yes." He kissed her in return, sliding his tongue across hers. "I wouldn't say it if it weren't true. youre beautiful Julia." Hwoarang spoke the last phrase in full Korean, tracing the curves of her clevage with the backs of his fingertips. She blused, his bottom lip lingering

between hers in yet another kiss.

Hwoarang took her hand, placing it against the side of his neck. Slowly, he caressed her skin along her bare shoulder, following the contours of her ribcage. The tips of his fingers tingled against her skin once he reached her hip bone. Julia found herself moving her hips forward to meet his touch. Hwoarang was careful where he placed his hands. He didn't want to grope all over her like she was just some meaningless object of lust, even though is hands and the reactions of his body told him otherwise.

Julia sat on Hwoarang's lap and wrapped her legs around him, guiding his hand along her thigh until he reached the hem of her blue jean shirt. They stopped kissing momentarilly giving him enough time to slip his shirt up and over his head, revealing a muscularly defined upperbody. Julia took his dog tags in her hand, holding onto them as they swung around his neck. He moved to kiss her again, both his hands gliding up the soft skin of her thighs. She inhaled and exhaled deeply.

As his thumbs slid beyond the hem of her skirt and to the bends where her torso and legs connected, feeling the outer elastic bands of her panties, he sighed. It was becoming harder to control his urges. The urges that ended things quickly, roughly, with his satisfaction. The urges that didnt care about the woman he'd been with. But he cared about Julia...and he would fight his hormones for as long as she wanted him to.

At the same moment that his lips dragged across her neck, he gently slid his thumb over the little budge beneath her lace panties. Julia quietly gasped and Hwoarang placed both his hands on her waist, trying to slow the moment down. He had to stop for a moment, or he was going to become lost in her, lost in his arousal. She finnished what his hands had started and pulled her shirt all the way up, over her head, and tossed it aside.

A fingertip playfully touched her clothed nipple and little kisses down the center of her chest gave her the chills. Julia held him closely, pressing her chest against his as he fumbled with the snap of her bra, releasing it with one hand, almost effortlessly. His hands traveled down her back, and his lips pressed against hers again.

Julia pulled at his belt and it came undone. He stared into her eyes, looking for an answer to a question that he couldnt put into words. His fingers danced beneath her panties gracefully, moving back and fourth across her skin, slowly, gently.

After a moment or two, she pushed him back onto the bed. Eventually, they lay nude atop each other, his hands traveling the lengths of her body. He rested between her thighs, pressing against her body's entrance.

Julia's hips rocked forward and he responded with a thrust, moving deep inside her. His forehead rested against her shoulder. Julia's body was tight, and he had to control the urges to be rough once again as she pushed back against him, giving herself to him.

Her eyes were shut tightly, her breaths coming hard, fast, and evenly. He could tell that she had been with very few men. If the number was more than one, he wouldn't have guessed it. Her nails where pushed into the sides of his arms. She wouldnt say aloud, but he could tell that he was hurting her. Hwoarang stopped.

"Julia-" He began. There was no conern in his facial expression, but his voice could not hide it. She smiled and opened her eyes as she pulled him against her wwith her legs so that he thrusted against her hips again.

Hwoarang grunted a few times, slipping his arm beneath her lower back. He was trying his hardest to be gentle, but gentle was usually far oiut from what he encountered in his sex life. Julia took her nails from his arms, and held onto him, her arms around his neck, her body relaxing beneath his well formed frame.

When they moved, he was beneath her. Hwoarang took Julia's hips, guiding her, helping her reach depths she'd never felt before. As soon as her body shuddered atop him, he released. They both trembled and he layed her down beside him.

-o-


	12. Chapter 12

I was in a very...weird mood while transferring this from my journal to word. The style is a bit different from the previous chapters, but i think Im gonna stick with it. People are reading, so I'll keep posting. Thanks for reading, makes me not feel all crazy-talking-to-myself-like. :)

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Julia opened her eyes. She was tangled in sheets, nude, and it wasnt the warmest temperature in the room. Her eyes caught Hwoarang just as he stood with his boxers on, trying to sneeak away without waking her. She stared ar gun as ge dressed in silence, his back towards her. His body was perfect. The moisture building between her thighs reminded her of just how perfect, and of the night before. Julia blushed ans shook the memories away.

"Hwoarang?" he turned quickly to face her. Hwoarang's teeshirt was just above his pectorals as he continued pulling it down while looking down at her. His hair was in his face, partially covering his eyes, his dog tags, out and exposed as he waited for her to say something more than just his name. "Are you leaving?" It was obvious, but she honestly couldn't think of anything better. Her mind had stopped working for the time being. This wasn't like her. She never paid any attention to her hormones, let alone give into them on a whim of a handsome smile, charm, and a kiss that could stop someone's heart. Maybe those reasons where good enough.

"I'm sorry about last night."

"For what?" Julia had him there. What was he apologizing for? Better yet, why the hell was Hwoarang apologizing for a one night stand? The moment he thought 'one night stand,' he internally frowned at himself. It wasn't like that. Not this time. The thought alone of what they had shared the previous night aroused him. The smell of her hair was still strong in his nose. The blood around the marks she'd left in his arms with her nails were dry. Hwoarang stood still with his eyes closed, mentally willing his arousal away, but it wasn't working. At least it hadn't turned into physical arousal...yet. He was turning red with effort. "Are you blushing?" He shook his head and opened his eyes. Slowly he moved onto the bed, lifting the sheets. Instinctively kissing her bare hips, her body called to him. She ached for him. The arousal was physical now, for the both

of them.

Her body was hot to the touch, her heart was pounding inside her chest. It was like the first time, all over again. She felt shy, but she also felt a burning desire for this man she knew so little about. But that could change. Having sex with someone always changed how well you knew them, whether you wanted to learn more or not. He was only gentle with her for a moment, but his body wanted her in ways he had yet to have her. His body wanted her more than any other woman he'd slept with. More than any woman who filled a void...took a place in his black book...drunkenly fulfilled a fantasy and a one night urge to fuck. Hwoarang wanted to please her more than he wanted to be pleased, and that was an extremely rare concept. Her long thighs were silk beneath his hands, and every time he pushed against her with his hands wrapped around them, he listened to the way she breathed. Hwoarang closed his eyes as they had each other again.

Julia stumbled out of the bed as he slept, and hit the ground with a hard thud that anyone in the room bellow them would here. As if it didn't help that they'd gone at it for two hours, now it sounded like they were throwing body sized furniture. With sheets wrapped around her torso and feet, she sighed.and put her hand to her head.Hwoarang chuckled , his eyes still shut.

"You're a jerk." He rolled over and looked down at her, leaning over the edge of the bed. Even when he woke, he looked amazing. Little did she know that he thought the same of her.

"Are you okay?"

"Now you ask. After you laugh, you ask." Angered, she tried to stand, and tripped again, but kept her balance. He rolled over to his back, hands behind his head, and closed his eyes again. He was so comfortable in his own skin...being nude in front of her. She, on the other hand, was more modest. But for what reason? He'd seen all of her, touched all of her, and been inside her more deeply than any other man. There was no shame between them.

"You're still beautiful. Even when you're angry. And completely naked." It was Julia's turn to blush. He was full to the sun, bellow the navel and beyond, at attention from waking. Julia had to force her eyes to stay at his face. As she stood, she could hardly walk, sore. Was it normal to want more abuse on top of already being sore? She bit her bottom lip.

"I'm going to shower." She silently hoped, as she walked to the bathroom, that he would be gone by the time she returned. It wasn't that she didn't want to be around him. It was so that she wouldn't have to see him naked again. Her body couldn't handle the outcome.

-o-

He stood with with his arms folded, legs apart among the group of fighters watching the match. Julia stood three people to his left. They caught each others glances every now and then with little smiles, but had said nothing to one another since earlier in the morning. She wanted to be immature and move beside him to hold his hand. Julia...immature? Where was all this coming from? She kicked herself and decided to stand with her arms folded against her chest as well.

After a few more minutes, she mouthed 'hi' and he squinted. Julia rolled her eyes with a smile. When you could speak three different languages, maybe lips weren't the easiest to read. The match ended, and he walked behind her, whispering in her ear.

"Meet me out front."


End file.
